Pick Savannah

“You know what… I think I’m going to pick Savannah,” you say, wrapping an arm around her as she snuggles up against you.

“WHAT!? You fucker!” Tatiana exclaims, as Imogen blurts out a “But you can’t do that!”

“Hey, I think it’s a marvellously nice gesture. Maybe this is just Alex’s way of saying that he doesn’t like your weird competition.” Savannah says. The other girls titter and laugh nervously, which only seems to further incense the two girls.

“I don’t understand. Why would you pick her over either one of us?” Imogen says.

“It’s because he’s a fucking idiotic freshman who can’t stay in his lane. Look at that smile on his face. He thinks this shit is fucking hilarious, doesn’t he,” Tatiana says. She’s not wrong, but you’re also smiling because it feels good to have Savannah standing up for you.

“God, this shit was stupid,” Imogen says, shaking her head. “Let’s just go to the party and pick up guys there.”

“Yeah, screw these two idiots,” Tatiana says, leaving the room with Imogen close behind her. The other girls in the room follow suit, leaving you alone with Savannah.

“Hey, that was kinda wild,” you say. “Are you doing alright? They won’t be mad at you later?”

“It’s copacetic. I’m known as the kindest girl here, so I’ve still got quite a bit of goodwill in the bank,” she says, looking you deep in the eyes. There’s a moment of silence.

Then, she licks her lips, and you’re done for. You lean into her, and she leans into you, and the moment your lips touch is reminiscent of your first kiss - soft, short, and sweet - but what follows after is a different story. She kisses you back, hard and aggressive this time, and you pull her body in against yours, where she melts into you, hands roaming under your shirt and across your back.

Her dress is tight enough that you can’t quite get your hands under it (and how do you untie it? a second of fumbling gets you nowhere and you ignore it for now), so your hands drift downwards, hoping to get in from below.

“Hey, you coming to the part - ” a voice calls out from the door before cutting off abruptly. As you stop making out with Savannah, you see Michelle standing by the door, looking a little embarrassed. As you meet her eye, she turns away and leaves.

“We should… we should probably head to the party downstairs yeah?” Savannah says, looking flushed and out of breath.

“Right, yeah, let’s do that,” you say, silently cursing yourself for not locking the door to the place at first. Savannah nods and gets up.

Downstairs, the party is alive and thumping, the crowd a tide that rises and falls with the hard EDM bassline. While the rest of the girls have mixed into the thick of the party, Savannah hangs back for a second, standing next to you.

“I don’t know if that was a good idea,” Savannah says, her voice falling with a note of concern.

“What, coming down to the party?” You frown. “Wasn’t this what you wanted?”

“No, I meant… that kiss just now.”

“You think we went too fast?” you ask, feeling a little surprised. Savannah came across as the girl-next-door type to you, but surely even they have experience, right?

“No, it’s Michelle. I think she has issues with guys and that just now… might not have been what she needed to see,” she says.

“Oh,” you say, feeling a little dumb, and a little lost. “Should we… I don’t know, go talk to her?”

“She’ll be fine down there for now,” Savannah says, pointing at Michelle. She’s by the bar, pouring herself several shots worth of vodka; the other girls are getting beers. “We should head down and dance! I’ll keep an eye out on her, don’t worry.”

“Okay…” you say, still a little hesitant, but Savannah pulls you by the hand again, dragging you up to the dancefloor.

People are screaming, raving, high on fifty **** and drunk on one universal one. Savannah dives into the thick of it and strikes a pose, one hand high in the air, and as people swirl around her, you slide in through the gaps and follow in her footsteps, pushing past a burly guy whose head-bobbing you find fairly unimpressive, until you find yourself face-to-face with Savannah again.

“Trying to lose me?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Trying to lose myself,” she says, swaying in time to the music.

All around you are people, loud noises, the heavy stench of ****, and then there’s Savannah, standing by you in her own little space, eyes drawing into yours. You feel a magnetism, and you lean in close to her, saying: “I can help you with that.”

The two of you hold onto each other, swaying in a languid cut time to the high-tempo music, and the night drops away.

Hours later, you find yourself leaving the sorority house drunk and exhausted, and you end the night with a an intimate hug goodbye to Savannah as you stumble back to your room, alone.

Imogen -35
Tatiana -35
Savannah +40
Michelle -1